All the Times They Chose to Stay
by ecv
Summary: Sometimes, choosing to stay is harder than walking away.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: There are times on this show when I think that if this had been real life, Booth or Brennan would have walked away. From the job, from their friends, or from each other. These are excerpts of their thoughts and feelings when they decided to come back instead. To stay with each other, rather than take the easier, and perhaps less painful way out._

 _There is no order to these. If you have any suggestions, please feel free to message me._

 _As always, I don't own Bones. Thanks for reading._

 _After: The Man in the Wall - a week later_

"Hey, Bones," Booth greeted. She looked up to see him leaning against the door frame, hands tucked in his pockets. He wore that self-assured, cocky smile that made her either want to smile in return or drove her crazy, depending on her mood.

"Booth," she returned, her voice cautious. "I wasn't sure I'd see you today." She hadn't been sure she'd ever see him again. Her blue eyes took stock of him. His skin was tanner, indicating he'd spent significant time in the sun during his week away. But as far as she could see, he was still the same person he'd been a week ago, at least physically.

She could name all of the bones beneath his skin, break down his body into terms only others with her level of expertise would understand. But she didn't do that with him. To do so would reduce him to something she didn't associate with her partner, and wasn't sure she could name herself. It would make him seem colder, more medical perhaps and her partner, she'd discovered, was none of those things.

Booth cared, even when he tried to hide it. Worked to understand her, even when he was clearly frustrated with her.

No, he was definitely more than the bones and muscles beneath his skin. Feelings were overrated, but to not acknowledge his diminished him in someway. Something she refused to do.

Straightening, he made his way further into her office. He'd watched her eyes travel the length of his body, and wondered what she saw. Her examination had given him time to do his own. She looked a little thinner and Booth figured with no one to stop her, Bones had worked too much during the last week. He was good for her, even if she didn't want to admit it.

He didn't want to think too much about the beach he'd left behind. To the fact that even while he rested in the sun and drank his ice cold beer, his thoughts kept returning to the woman staring at him with her clear blue eyes. Regret over Tessa not coming should have been foremost in his mind, but each time he came close to that feeling, thoughts of Bones would steal in and push all thoughts of Tessa away.

Dr. Temperance Brennan already occupied a significant portion of his thoughts while he was at work. Booth was unsure how he felt about her taking over his personal time as well.

"Why wouldn't you see me today?" he asked, his voice clearly conveying his confusion. "I told you my vacation was only for a week." A week both too short and too long. Just enough time away to realize there were still things that pulled him to stay in this city. To return even when the beach tempted him to stay.

Turning away from the penetrating gaze, Brennan saved the work on her computer before turning slowly back to him. How could she explain her worries for the last week? Knowing that he probably saw the worry no matter how she tried to hide it.

He'd said going on vacation alone meant that sometimes you didn't want to come back. She'd spent most of the past week with an elevated heart rate and blood pressure, wondering if he'd be tempted to do exactly that.

Not want to come back.

Stay away permanently.

Settling for an indefinite shrug, she met his eyes. "You were the one who said you might not come back. I figured it was some sort of warning I didn't understand."

Booth studied her for another moment, before turning and walking to her couch. With a barely audible sigh, he relaxed into it. Yes, he'd made some comment about going on vacation alone, which would make it a little harder to come back. He should have known his literal partner would take it to heart. "It was hard coming back to work this morning, that's for sure," he agreed. "Nothing like a beach vacation to relax the mind."

"I'm more relaxed when I'm working," she disagreed.

Shaking his head, Booth understood what had upset his new partner. While her mind was logically brilliant, emotionally she had a much harder time dealing. Stories were behind those fears, perhaps more than one or two. It would require patience and trust to get her to talk to him.

The pull to come back to the city began and end with the woman in front of him. He wondered what was beneath that logical exterior. It had almost become a mission to get her to reveal some of them to him.

He hadn't counted on circling around to actually being friends with her along the way.

There were days he wondered if it was a mistake to agree to work with her. Until he looked at the cases he solved since that day at the airport. Knowing she was partially responsible for that. If it continued, people with power were going to start noticing their fledgling partnership.

So, he'd do what was needed to ease those fears that had bothered her the last week.

"Now that's just sad, Bones," he said with a relaxed smile.

Looking away again, Brennan wished that she was comfortable revealing a little bit more of herself to him. That she could tell him about her parents and Russ leaving. That no matter who she met in life, she assumed all relationships she was involved with came with an expiration date.

Somewhere along the way, Brennan had gotten used to being left behind.

"Look," Booth said, jumping to his feet. Only to stop abruptly when she began to talk over him.

"I figured you weren't coming back for real. That our partnership was over. I spent the last week adjusting to being back in the lab again. I was surprised to see you because it was the logical reaction given your statement about not coming back." She stared at him, her blue eyes wide, as if she was as surprised with her honesty as he was.

Fidgeting with the items he always carried in his pocket, Booth considered how to respond to her declaration.

"It's okay," she said, at first reading his silence as anger. "I shouldn't have said anything."

But Booth disagreed. "No, I'm glad you did. If we're going to be partners, we need to be honest with each other."

"I've made you uncomfortable and that wasn't my intention." As she studied him, that was one emotion she could easily read on people. On him. It was one she had often faced, especially with her blunt way of speaking. "I'll go back to the article I was writing for _Anthropology Quarterly_ and you can go back to your office. You'll let me know when there is a case."

"Now wait a minute, Bones. I know we're new at this, but I want a chance to respond." Pulling the hand from his pocket, he ran it over his chin. "To your first point, I wouldn't end the partnership without having some sort of conversation with you first. Email, telephone, something. But we would have it."

She nodded, conceding the point. "And I promise to give you the same courtesy."

He snorted. Of course, she would. She'd just use a lot of scientific reasoning to explain her opinion and he'd probably zone out in the middle of her explanation. Still, it was nice to know she'd at least talk to him first, before she quit.

"To your second point, that you spent the last week getting used to being in the lab again. You never actually left the lab, not permanently, to work with me. So, I'm not sure why that would be so hard to adjust to."

The line between her eyes appeared. "No, I have not left the lab permanently. But during the week before you went on vacation, I spent forty percent of my workday with you. That doesn't include the fact you forced me to eat lunch at the diner on seventy-five percent of those occasions. So being in the lab one hundred percent of the time, would be an adjustment."

"Jesus, Bones," he said without thinking. "You know what percentage of time we spend together?"

Her brow remained furrowed. "Of course, I do. In case it is ever questioned, I feel it is important to have an accurate record of the time I spend consulting for the FBI versus the time I give to the Jeffersonian."

"And if I didn't force you to eat, you wouldn't," he said, his tone just this side of grumpy.

"I eat," she argued.

"Not on a schedule and those disgusting bars made of bark don't count."

Turning, she reached into a drawer and pulled out a green wrapper. "They aren't made of bark. It clearly says the first ingredient is…" looking up, she trailed off at the amused look in his eyes. "An exaggeration?" she guessed.

He nodded. "To your third and final point," he continued as she stowed her snack back into the drawer. Briefly, he gave thought to sneaking in one night and replacing all of her food with candy bars. "I told you I'd be back today. Saying it to you was a like a promise. You don't break a promise. Especially not to your partner."

Her eyes clouded over. "People break promises all the time, Booth. Your argument is invalid. Just because you didn't break this one, doesn't mean you won't break the next one."

"Bones," he said, his voice a command to look at him. He watched her struggle to make the move, before her shoulders squared and she gave him the look that made her colleagues sweat bullets.

And sometimes him, if he was being totally honest.

"I'd be interested to know exactly who broke a promise to you," he said. "But at the moment, I'm not one of those people and I have no intention of that changing."

She licked her lips before pressing them together. After a moment that went on a touch too long, Brennan finally nodded. "You are correct, you haven't broken a promise."

The 'yet' was left hanging in the air between them.

Knowing he would have to be happy with that for the moment, Booth pointed at the clock behind her. "According to your tally, until this morning, we've spent exactly zero of our week together, correct?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you making fun of my system?"

Of course he was. But he had no intention of telling her that. "Nope," he said, fixing his charm smile firmly on his face. "I'm just pointing out that we are at the low end of the scale and that we have time to go to breakfast, since I'm sure you barely ate the last week."

"I ate breakfast," she said, while getting out of her chair and reaching for her coat. No matter how much she didn't want to admit it to herself, she'd missed this.

"Then it will be an early lunch," he said, following her out of her office. In front of him, Brennan couldn't see the satisfied smile that crossed his face, before he schooled his features. It seemed, at least to him, he was getting much better and understanding just how the brilliant mind inside of her head worked.

Though Brennan knew she should pull away from the hand at the small of her back, she continued to walk close enough to him to allow his touch to remain. Perhaps, eventually, he would break a promise, would walk away. But right now, this morning, he hadn't.

It was good enough for now.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you very much for the reviews and follows._

 _During: The Boneless Bride in the River_

Darkness fell hours ago and Brennan sat in her apartment alone. On other evenings, Booth would have appeared with take-out and together they would have filled out the paperwork required at the completion of the case. Tonight, she knew he wouldn't come. Booth would assume she was leaving in the morning. That she was packing and taking care of last minute tasks.

He was wrong.

She hadn't spoken to Booth after telling Sully she couldn't go. Her partner walked out of the interrogation room with the suspect and she'd used the opportunity to grab her things and leave. He didn't know she wasn't going. No one except Sully did and Brennan knew he wouldn't tell anyone. Leaving was something both of them had excelled at this day. Sully and Brennan just hadn't left together.

How she wanted to go. Looked in Sully's eyes and wanted to say yes. Stared at him and pictured spending time on the boat with him and desperately wanted to utter that single word. But when she opened her mouth, the word wouldn't come. Only the refusal.

She wasn't afraid to take the chance. A year living rough was nothing new to her. And this wouldn't be the worst possible way to live. A roof over her head and a man to keep her warm at night. One that was more than willing and more than capable of fulfilling her needs.

But it wasn't enough.

After leaving Booth, but before coming home, she'd returned to the Jeffersonian and studied the pictures Angela had drawn. A wedding portrait of the deceased bride and groom. Haunting, knowing they wouldn't get their happily ever after. She didn't want that; the ring and the vows were something she didn't believe in.

Sully understood that. He wouldn't have pushed.

But that wasn't enough either.

For whatever reason, everything Sully offered her would never had been enough.

BbBbBb

He hadn't seen her after the case and that bothered him. Was Bones avoiding him? Sully left in the morning. Giving up his career to take that damn sailboat of his around the world. Had Bones run to avoid saying good-bye to Booth?

His laptop open on the coffee table, Booth attempted to avoid checking it every five minutes. He was waiting for just one email in particular, remembering the promise they'd made to each other when he returned from his vacation. An email or a phone call, was the minimum required to break the partnership. Knowing if he remembered, so did she, Booth planned to keep the link open until dawn.

His feet were stretched out next to the computer, one ankle crossed over the other. The relaxed position was opposite to the feelings churning in his gut.

He'd essentially told her go. To live a life wide open. It had startled him when she mentioned it and he said the only thing he could. To go or stay had to be her decision. Sully was a good guy. He'd take care of her and make sure she got lunch and dinner. Take care of other needs as well, but he brutally pushed that thought away. Bones was a friend and nothing more. She was with another man. He had no right to even think about her in any way other than friendship.

But, at the oddest times, those thoughts were creeping in. When friendship tried to take a turn toward something else. For the moment, he was staying on the straight and narrow, at least as far as Bones was concerned.

Giving into the urge, he refreshed the page again, before rising to grab a beer from the fridge. Considering, he grabbed a second before closing the door and returning to the couch. Thankfully, Booth had purchased not one, but two six packs before arriving home for the evening. That was to complement the bottle of Scotch he had yet to open. The two in his hand would be all he drank unless that dreaded email came through. If that occurred, the message he sent would be to his boss, requesting a sick day. He'd need one after he got drunk.

BbBbBb

A glass of wine now rested next to her as she reclined on the couch. In her hand was the list she'd made the previous evening. When she couldn't read her own mind and had resorted to making a list of reasons to organize her thoughts.

Some were so simple. The Jeffersonian, and all the people there, were reason enough to stay. More than reason enough as far as she was concerned. She could do great work there. Had already done so. But Sully told her today that the job couldn't be her whole life. She didn't think it was. Brennan was a novelist now and had friends she treasured. If anything, her world had broadened in the last few years, not narrowed.

Sully was listed as a reason to go. As he should have been. But despite the fact his name was first, that she thought enough of him to put him first, it hadn't forced that single word from between her lips.

Brennan kept coming back to that feeling he wasn't enough. But she couldn't define what he could have done, could have said to make himself be enough. It was a feeling, something so deep she couldn't, or wouldn't give voice to it.

Taking a sip of wine, she returned to her list. Others would have written about a chance to see the world, but Brennan had already done that. Not from a sailboat, but it didn't seem fair to list something she'd previously completed as reason to leave.

Finally, the previous evening, she picked up her pen and written something under the go column. Live a wide open life, it said. Brennan still wasn't quite sure what it meant, but Angela had made it seem like a valid reason. A chance to live a life, if only for a year, that didn't revolve around death and bodies. A life filled with sunny beaches and maybe parts of the world she hadn't actually seen yet.

That entry had been immediately followed by one in the opposite column: boredom. Brennan wasn't sure she could live a life that didn't have a goal, a purpose. How long would it have been before she was bored with living on a boat? And would that have been followed by boredom with the man she was on the boat with? Could she give up everything she'd worked for her entire adult life and do nothing but live on a boat for a year? Was such a thing possible for her?

Picking up her wine, Brennan walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. Outside, the night was broken by the passing of cars and the street lights below her. Finishing the remainder of the glass, Brennan walked to the kitchen and rinsed it before returning to the window. Pushing her face as close to the screen as possible, she took a deep breath of the night air before stepping back. It was cool, and smelled like the city to her. What would it have been like to only smell the ocean or the beach? To not hear the cars or the sirens?

To hear nothing but her own thoughts.

And what if during that entire year all she'd thought about was the decision she'd made?

What if all that consumed her thoughts was regret?

BbBbBb

Midnight came and went with no new emails from Bones. Not sure whether to be relieved or nervous, Booth flipped through channels on the television, looking for anything that might make the hours go a little faster.

Settling on the replay of a hockey highlights, Booth opened the second bottle of beer. He'd nursed the first long enough that the second was closer to warm than cold and he set the bottle down with a grimace. Before he picked it up again and took a healthy swallow. It was open. No sense in wasting it. One less beer consumed now might ruin the potential buzz he had planned for later.

Sully was leaving at seven. Bones would have to leave at least an hour before to get there on time. If she hadn't called or sent anything by six, she wasn't going. At least not on the boat. The Bones he knew would at least go to the dock to wish Sully well.

If she didn't email, he'd go and wait for her. Brennan had appeared to fall hard for his friend and despite everything he only wanted her to be happy. If living on a boat for a year had made her happy, Booth would have supported her. Would support her if that was the decision she made.

If Bones walked away, would he be able to resist all those impulses he buried just beneath the surface? Chances he shouldn't take, both in his job and at cards? If he lost her, would he lose everything else as well?

Tossing back the rest of the bottle, he refreshed the screen again as he placed it carefully next to the first. He was tempted to pick them up, but if getting drunk was required, the empty bottles would help him keep better track of how far into his stash he was.

Settling back with the remote in his hand, Booth flipped through channels again, wondering how he'd ever get through the next five hours.

BbBbBb

Brennan had her email open, composing a letter to Booth. As suspected, he wasn't the only one who remembered the promise.

But this wasn't an email informing him of the termination of the partnership. In fact, this was an email that would never be sent.

She wanted Booth to explain what hadn't been enough. For him to tell her what she couldn't see herself. He had a way of doing that. Of knowing what she was thinking and feeling when she couldn't put it into words. When the swirling threatened to drown her, he was the rock in the middle of the storm. The waves would beat around him but he would hold.

And it was that simple imagery, the words she wouldn't give voice to, that had her deleting the email and shutting down her computer for the night. Her alarm was set on her phone and she quickly prepared for bed. The clock had passed midnight, and if she had any hope of sleep at all, she needed to go now.

Because somewhere, buried deep, Brennan now knew the reason Sully hadn't been enough.

And in the future when others would tell them Booth wasn't the reason she'd stayed, what she knew in this moment was buried so deep, she could allow herself to believe the truth others gave her.

For the next few years, she would build her life around that false truth. That it had been her inability to lead a purposeless life that kept her from leaving.

It wasn't the man who was the rock in the center of the storm that was Temperance Brennan.

In order for her to function in that moment, it couldn't be.

BbBbBb

Booth dozed for a time during the night, waking with a snap and immediately refreshing his email. A quick check of his watch indicated the time was well after six. It certainly looked like his partner had decided to stay in DC.

Which meant he had at least one full six-pack to bring to her apartment at some point in the near future. The Scotch, well, a man couldn't be faulted for keeping a little something for himself.

In the early morning light, Booth allowed the thrill to rush through him. Bones had chosen to remain, as his partner and his friend, rather than go around the world with Sully. It made the man in him want to throw up a fist in victory.

But he knew her heart would be broken, or crushed, and that dampened the feeling just a little bit.

A year ago, he didn't understand why she'd been so sure he'd go on vacation and not return.

Now, Booth knew she would see this as another person choosing something else over her. That little girl look would appear for just a moment and something inside of him would hurt just as much.

No woman had ever made him feel that before.

Later, when they fell out of sync for a time, and Brennan needed the reassurance that he wasn't the reason she'd stayed behind, he'd go along with the lie, knowing it was what his partner needed.

Even if he suspected the truth that she wasn't ready to hear. But he was a patient man, who valued whatever she could give him.

If she needed the lie to be comfortable with him again, he'd give it to her.

Running a hand through his hair, he knew a shower and a cup of coffee were all he had time for before he ran out the door.

When Brennan watched Sully sail away, he'd be there to remind her that not everyone left. He could give her that, too.

And it wouldn't be a lie.

BbBbBb

"How did you know," she asked him at breakfast. Together, they waved as the boat sailed away, even if Brennan knew they'd waved for entirely different reasons. As usual, Booth had insisted on taking her somewhere to eat, despite her protests.

"Know what?" he asked around a mouthful of French toast.

She pushed around the food on her plate, until Booth gave her a pointed look and she took a bite to appease him. "Know I wasn't going," she said after finishing the tiny portion. She'd been startled, but not surprised to see him behind her when she turned around. Brennan wanted to know if it was his gut that told him, or something else.

"The promise," he said simply. "When you didn't call or email by six, I knew you weren't going."

"I should have told you yesterday," she said softly.

Booth shrugged, not mentioning the sleepless night he'd just spent. It wasn't the first time she'd worried him and it wasn't like she'd been dying at the time. "That's okay, Bones," he reassured her and it really was. Bones was sitting across from him and Sully was gone. He had nothing to complain about. "When there wasn't an email this morning, I knew you weren't going. And I knew you'd need breakfast."

"Do you really believe everything happens eventually?" she asked, suddenly needing the reassurance. Needing him to be the rock he'd always been. Watching as the boat disappeared made her wonder if she'd ever get another chance.

"Well," Booth hedged, "maybe not everything. I know you don't believe in absolutes and I'll probably never win the lottery or play for the Flyers. But the important stuff. Those things you wondered about as Sully sailed away. Yeah, I believe those things always happen eventually."

And just like that, something in her settled again. She nodded, then tilted her head at him. "Who are the Flyers?"

His laugh had several diners turning their heads and for the first time in days, Brennan gave him a genuine smile.

It was good enough for now.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: After Booth comes back from the dead...probably that night. I don't own Bones. Thanks for reading._

He knew who was at the door before he checked. The soft knock indicated her hesitation, and he wondered if she would leave before he had a chance to open the door between them.

"It's late, Bones," he whispered softly. The hall behind was softly illuminated, the light leaving her face in shadows. "I didn't expect to see you again. At least, not until morning."

Booth stood, shirtless, sweat pants low on his hips, waiting for her to explain. To give him some indication of what couldn't wait until the light of day to say. He thought she'd said it all already, when she'd barged into the bathroom while he was a lot less dressed than he was now. All her questions had been answered, blame had been cast, there was nothing left except regret for what had taken place.

Shaking her head, Brennan lifted her face, turned it just enough that he could make out her features in the darkness. Her eyes were haunted, the circles beneath dark. A visual indication of the suffering she didn't want to admit to. "I needed to be sure," she said softly. "Logically, it doesn't make sense, but I needed to be sure."

The look in her eyes made it difficult for him to draw breath. He wondered when the last time she'd slept well was, or if she'd slept at all recently. She should be in bed now, not at his door well past the witching hour. "Be sure of what?" he asked, knowing his partner wouldn't leave until she got the answers she sought.

They watched each other, not making a move forward or back, the door frame an invisible line neither dared cross. He followed her eyes as they traced a path from his face down to his chest, where they focused on the white bandage there.

Hesitant fingers reached out to brush across the fabric. Booth was unsure whether he should allow it, but he did nothing to avoid it. He shouldn't have been able to feel the warmth through the square of white cloth, but her touch burned his skin. Using his hand, he trapped hers against his chest, his heart thudding so hard, he could feel it through her skin.

"What did you need to be sure of, Bones?" he asked her again. It was too intimate, too intense, the two of them standing in the darkness, barely speaking, only touching. Another woman would have been in his apartment, in his bed by then. But not this woman. It was a line he wouldn't cross. A trust he wouldn't break.

She tore her eyes, but not her hand away from his chest. "I needed to be sure you were really alive. That it wasn't some dream. I believed, until the darkness fell." Her words tumbled out faster the more she spoke. "I know it is irrational. I saw you, spoke to you, but…" she trailed off, shaking her head, at a loss on how to explain the emotions that swirled through her.

Using the hand trapped beneath his, Booth pulled her across that imaginary line and into his arms, ignoring the warning bells screaming in his head. He backed them into his apartment enough to close the door behind them.

Her face was warmer against his skin than her hand had been. In the darkness, which would help hide the things they didn't want to face in the daylight, he rested his cheek against her hair. "Shit, Bones," he muttered, his arms holding her tight to him. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I don't hurt," she argued. With her face pressed to his chest, the words were muffled. Hard to understand. "Emotions shouldn't hurt. They are chemical reactions."

"They hurt, Bones," he said. Because he hurt, right at that moment. For her. For him. For a past they couldn't change, and a future they couldn't imagine. "They hurt and they burn and threaten to swallow you whole. And during the light of day, you can hide, but when it's dark, the shadows are stronger." The tears were damp on his chest, and as she struggled to pull away, he held her tighter. "It's okay to cry because you're relieved, Bones. Or because you're angry, or scared. Or hell, all three at once."

"I don't know what any of that means," she complained, and Booth swallowed the chuckle.

"I think you know what all of it means. But saying you don't makes it easier for you to hide from things you don't want to face."

When she struggled this time, he opened his arms to let her go, knowing he was pushing her toward things she wasn't ready for.

The only illumination came through the windows, its source the lights on the street below. He used it to study her, learning as much from her expressions as he did from her words.

She wiped at her eyes, trying to appear strong, but her shoulders were hunched and she looked smaller, as if her body physically withdrew along with her emotions. "I should go," she said suddenly. "It's late."

Booth reached for her arm, and she froze at his touch. "When was the last time you slept, Bones?"

"I've slept every night since you were…gone," she said.

Truth and lies mixed together. But Booth could read her better than any suspect. "Let me guess. One or two hours a night, before you got up and went to the Lab. If I ask Angela how many times she found you there, early in the morning, what would her answer be?"

Brennan folded her arms across her chest, her defensive posture all the answer he needed.

The intimacy was still there, hovering over them in the darkness. But it no longer had the power it did moments before. She'd closed the door enough for him to think clearly again, to not drown in the feeling of her bare hand on his chest.

Enough for him to make the offer, more like an order, without worrying where it would lead.

"You'll stay here tonight."

Eyes flying to his, she took a step back, instinctively putting more distance between them. "I don't need to stay. I won't run, now that you're back. Even if I'm angry with what happened."

He'd been on his way to get blankets and pillows, to give her the few moments of space she clearly needed, when her words made him pause. "You were leaving?" he asked, turning back toward her.

Her chin lifted. "You were dead," she said, pleased she said the word without choking on it. "It wasn't like I could talk to you about it."

Booth stepped toward her, but stayed far enough away that she didn't feel the need to take another step back. "Did you talk to anyone about it? Where were you going to go?"

Brennan couldn't tell him that despite her denial, she had talked to him every night about leaving. That in the dark emptiness of her apartment, where no one could tell her she was irrational, she'd talked to him about what to do with the rest of her life.

And tonight, when she found herself talking to him again, she'd wondered if the whole thing had been a dream. That she'd suffered some sort of psychotic break, imagining a whole scenario where he came back from the dead. The fear had driven her to his door, briefly into his arms.

"I don't need to talk to anyone about leaving. The only person I made that promise to was you," she reminded him. "And I didn't know where I was going. I was considering several offers at prominent institutions before you reappeared."

Shaking his head, he went for the blankets and pillows. Despite her continued protests in the background, he had the couch made up for her in minutes. Standing back, he glared at her until she sighed heavily and moved toward the makeshift bed.

"I'm not waking you up in the morning," he said. "You can go in when you get some sleep." When she started to argue he held up his hand. "I didn't say you weren't going in, I said you were going in late. Take the compromise, Bones."

"Are you keeping me here because you think I'll leave?" she asked.

Booth pointed toward the bed. "I'm keeping you here because I think you'll sleep. You won't run now."

She tilted her head curiously at him, before pulling back the blankets. "How can you know that?"

"You said you wouldn't. It's enough for me." He trusted her with his life and his secrets. Trusting her on this was easy.

Her eyes met his across the darkness and Booth knew for sure, at that moment, he was lost. The bond that tied them together was something he would never escape, no matter what happened in the future. He had no doubt it would stretch, pull thin, but it would never snap.

He wasn't sure what that meant for the two of them. Or for his heart. But that was a problem for a different day.

"Go to sleep, Bones," he said. His voice was rougher than he meant, but it did the trick. She stretched out, pulling the blanket over her.

"Booth," she called as he stepped away. "If you ever do this to me again, I won't wait two weeks for you to reappear. I'll go so far you'll never find me."

Considering who her father was, Booth knew it was no empty threat. "I promise I won't fake die on you again, Bones."

She didn't reply, but he knew she'd heard. For a long time, he stood in the frame of the door to his bedroom, watching her sleep. Finally, too tired to keep his eyes open, he found himself in his own bed, dreaming dreams he wouldn't remember.

They all involved the woman sleeping on his couch.


	4. Chapter 4

_After The Verdict in the Story..._

Booth had food in his hand when he arrived at her apartment. He'd let her go off with her father after the verdict, to give them time to talk and decompress. But he also knew his partner and knew there were things she would say to him that she would never say to Max.

And he had things he wanted to say to her. Needed her to understand.

Exhaustion had given way to anger after leaving the courthouse. He'd been so furious at first, to think Bones would sacrifice herself like that to save her father. He wasn't an innocent man; Max had committed murder. But all Bones saw was a chance, and she took it, trusting he wouldn't do such a thing again.

A different interpretation of the facts, it definitely had been. One he hadn't seen coming. She knew what she'd asked of him, and done it anyway. Asked him to tell the truth, as Bones knew he would.

And that's where the anger came from. On more than one occasion he'd saved her life and at that moment, he felt as if he were taking it. For a brief time, as he'd driven away, he wondered if it was worth it. This partnership that was so successful. Could he continue to risk everything for her, knowing there were moments she'd not only demand everything he had, but more?

Wondering if she'd understood what she'd risked, Booth stopped for a moment before knocking on the door. He could hear voices. Max was approaching the door and as he opened it to leave, Booth slipped inside. Max gave him a funny look, but let him go. Booth knew what he'd assume and while he should have taken the time to correct him, Booth didn't bother. Let the man think what he wanted.

With her back to him, Bones didn't see him enter. Her shoulders were slumped and she didn't appear to know he was there. Placing the food on the counter nearest to him, Booth took several silent steps toward her. His worry on how to gain her attention vanished when she turned without a word and threw herself into his arms.

Only the fact that he was a bigger than she kept them on their feet when she crashed into him. "Bones?" he whispered, her actions scaring him just a little. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her a little closer to him, unsure of what was taking place. Her entire body was shaking and it took a moment for him to realize she was weeping into his shoulder.

She'd known the minute he walked through the door. Whether it was the smell of the food, or the smell that was uniquely Booth, Brennan knew he'd be there to catch her when she fell into his arms. There hadn't been a moment's hesitation in the move, because she knew.

Not since the day she'd learned Temperance wasn't her real name had he seen her like this. And even that day, she could at least speak. Now, it was clear she wouldn't have been able to say her own name between the sobs. Moving his hands soothingly up and down her back, he whispered nonsense to her, much the same way he'd done to Parker when he'd been this hysterical.

Wondering what Max had said to upset her so, Booth waited patiently for the storm to blow itself out.

It was minutes later, minutes that consisted of nothing but holding her while she wept, before he managed to catch two words between her sobs.

"I'm sorry," she said. And continued to repeat when she could get the words out. She'd been so stressed, knowing what she was asking him to do. She wasn't sure he'd speak to her again after he'd disappeared from the courthouse. Brennan thought they were okay when he'd hugged on her on the steps, but the longer she thought about it, the less sure she'd been.

The tears were a product of relief at having her father back, at knowing Booth wasn't going to disappear because she'd taken advantage of him. For once in her life, having people stay, instead of walking away.

Just for a little while, she'd let her heart rule her mind.

"Stop, Bones," he ordered. Even though mere hours ago he'd been so angry he'd wondered if he could ever work with her again. Until he'd caught her when she fell apart and knew he could never walk away.

Her sobs had softened and when she tried to pull away from him, Booth let her go a little. But he moved his hands to grab her arms. She was so tiny, he thought, relaxing his grip slightly.

"Don't run," Booth said, maintaining the soft volume of his voice. "We'll talk about it, but don't run. Do you have any idea what you did?" he asked, shaking her gently before letting her go.

She backed far enough way to put herself out of reach, but didn't leave the room. Instead, she faced him, shifting back and forth while she studied his face. "I know you're mad at me," she said.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Booth considered his answer. "Yes," he agreed finally, "I'm mad at you." His voice took on a desperate tone, as he acknowledged what her choice could cost her. "Caroline could-"

"She won't," Brennan interrupted. The tears quickly drying on her face, she broke Booth's stare and turned away for a moment. "I considered all my options and this was the best I had. The best he had."

"You considered it? For how long?" he demanded. "The hour between our conversation at the diner and returning to court? Is that enough time to decide to make yourself look guilty?"

Brennan turned back to him, lifting her chin. "My mind works very quickly." Looking at his face, she sighed. "I knew exactly what I was risking."

A totem from his pocket appeared in his hand. "Jail. Your freedom. Me," he listed coolly. She followed the object at it flew through the air and back to his hand again. His knuckles white as he gripped it, he waited for her eyes to return to his. "Did your quick thinking mind consider all of that?"

Licking her lips, she eyed him warily. "I knew I could be charged, but I figured the chances were slim. We could simply make my father look guilty and I would be found innocent." Nervous, she watched him. "I wasn't risking your freedom."

"No, you weren't, at least not literally," Booth agreed. "But, Bones, if you are charged, how do you think I'll feel, knowing it was my testimony that did it. Not all jails have bars, you know that."

"It wouldn't have been your fault. I knew exactly what I was asking," she snapped, watching his eyes turn to black. "I didn't ask you to lie, but it was a lie just the same. I used our friendship, the knowledge that you wouldn't lie on the stand, that you value justice above even our friendship, to free my father. Who is a murderer. I knew all that, Booth."

"But you did it anyway," he forced between jaws clenched so tight, he thought they might shatter. Pacing away, he tried to walk off some of the anger, but the room was too small, the walls too close.

His back to her when he stopped, Booth couldn't see the tears pooling in her eyes again. "I didn't want to lose my father, or you," she whispered brokenly. "I made the only choice I could think of that might give me both."

The heart before the mind. No wonder she usually looked at things the opposite way. To care meant to hurt, to regret the decision she'd made.

She didn't regret freeing her father. But she hated the thought being the cause of Booth's pain.

Swiping at her eyes, she waited for some sign, a clue that she made the correct choice. Or a choice that could be forgiven. "Juries are people, the unknown factor, that's what you said. It was a different interpretation of the facts." When he still didn't turn, she took a step toward him, then stopped, unsure what to do. "I am sorry, Booth. Not for the end. But for what it took to get there."

Turning finally, seeing her standing there with those blue eyes and wet cheeks, Booth wondered how much longer he could keep this up. To love her, to want her, with every breath he took, and not have her.

To live with the fear of what her logical mind could come up with, could rationalize. He knew she would do anything for the people she cared about. Could he live knowing that if she had a second chance, she would make the same choices all over again?

And even as he asked all of the questions, Booth was pretty sure the answer was yes. He'd do it forever. Or until that day, in a future he couldn't predict, one of them finally walked away.

"I brought enough food for both of us," he said. To break the partnership and walk away from her would be nothing less than breaking his own heart.

Tilting her head, she pondered his words. "Does that mean you aren't angry anymore?"  
"I'm still angry. But I'll work through it," he said, motioning for her to come and grab some of the food.

"I won't do it again," she promised quietly. "I won't put you in a position where you have to hurt me. Either with words or actions. I'll never ask it of you again."

"You don't believe in absolutes," he reminded her. When they both reached for the same container of food, and their hands met, Booth tried to pull back with a laugh. But she gripped his hand in hers and held tight. Surprised, he looked up to see her blue eyes as serious as he'd ever seen them.

"I promise, Booth. I won't do it again." Because she knew what it cost him. To have to implicate her in a murder she had nothing to do with. He'd once flown south to save her from the very same thing. What would he do to save her this time, if Caroline decided to charge her?

He fought the urge to flick his eyes from her lips and back again. She was so close, all he had to do was lean, and their lips would meet. The desire was there, so strong Booth was surprised she couldn't see it in his eyes. Instead, he pulled back just a little. "I know you won't, Bones."

She studied him, before finally nodding and releasing his hand. "Tomorrow, we need to solve our case," she said. It was time to put the mind first. The heart had caused enough trouble for one day.

"Tomorrow, we aren't working," Booth argued. "Spend the day with your father."

"The whole day?" she asked, slightly alarmed. "What would we do together for a whole day?"

Booth chuckled. "I don't know. Talk, have lunch."

"I already have lunch plans," she said.

Swallowing, Booth fought the sudden urge to punch something. "With who?" he asked casually.

She gave him the look he always got when Bones thought he was missing something obvious. "We're working a case. You're having lunch with me." She paused. "Unless, we aren't working together anymore." She laid it out there, in the blunt way she had, but Booth could hear the tension in her words.

Maybe someday he would agree to that. But not today. "We still have a case to solve, Bones. We're okay."

She gave him a relieved smile and motioned to the food in front of him. "Are you going to eat that?"

He handed it over without a word. For the moment, they were okay. Booth would do everything he could to make sure it stayed that way. Even if it meant, that sometimes, he would be forced to save Bones from herself.


End file.
